Just Like Always
by itsjustme1217
Summary: Bella has lived a life of horror for such a young age. How will she decide to deal with it?
1. Chapter 1

A/N Disclaimer: I own nothing. Stephenie Meyer owns the characters but Robert Pattinson owns all of me. There is no intended copyright infringement.

Thanks go to my beta Krystih for always telling me when I'm wrong and being stupid and kudos to her for always being right. To RPfangirlDC for all of her encouragement. And to Tina, the best friend a girl could ever ask for.

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I woke in my bed at 7:00 am. I sighed heavily and swung my legs over the side of the small bed sitting up. Another day in the life of Bella Swan.

I showered and put on my usual black dress pants and white button down shirt. I glanced at the clock as I eat my cornflakes, 7: 20. In twenty minutes I would leave for my job at the Greenwich Public Library, eat lunch at Dojo's, where I will have the chicken cutlet with Japanese BBQ sauce, home fries and a side of green salad. Just like always. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a routine, it's comforting. The routine is all that keeps me going.

I knew that my life was my own making and I had chosen this mundane existence but I had survived enough tragedy for a lifetime. No one told me what to do or yelled at me, and I reasoned that without any friends or family, I could effectively sustain from anymore heartache. I didn't need anyone. I could take care of myself.

I lived alone, ate alone, and walked to work alone. I was miserable but at least it was a misery of my own making. My life was like a moonless night.  
I had learned that people let you down. They leave.  
They make decisions that ruin your life with no thought for you at all. People who are supposed to love you the most. They break your heart. The only end to love I saw was misery and I already had a ton of that.

Besides, people never love you as much as they say they do. As soon as they get a chance they will forsake you for their own happiness. So that's what I did. I abandoned all human contact to serve my own needs.

I lost my mother, Renee, when I was fifteen. She ran away with a baseball player named Phil. As if it wasn't bad enough that Renee had chosen another man over me. She didn't even bother to say goodbye. I came home one day from school and she wasn't in the living room watching her soap operas like usual. I went to look for her in her room, thinking she had decided to nap. But she wasn't there and neither were any of her personal belongings. I looked in her closet and all of her clothes were gone. Her make up bag and all her toiletries were missing from the bathroom.

I searched frantically for a note, on the fridge, the tables, even under the beds with my heart beating erratically. A mother didn't just up and leave her only child without any explanation. Surely, she would call me, I thought, but she never did.

I found out where my mother was from the gas station attendant. He told me that Renee and a man named Phil had filled up before leaving town. They were headed to Florida where Phil would be in spring training with the baseball team he pitched for. I was incredulous that she could tell some gas station attendant where she was going and with who, but not me. Did I mean so little to her?

I cried in my bed for two weeks, confused as to how she could do this to me and angry that she had. Charlie never even came to check on me. I figured I didn't mean much to him either. I could die of starvation in this bedroom and neither of parents would know or care. If my own parents didn't care how could anyone else. Was I unlovable?

I knew things had not been pleasant between her and my father for years. All they did was argue. They argued about the laundry, and the car, and money. The worst was when they argued about me. When I was little I used to hide between the box spring and the mattress to keep from hearing them and to keep them from finding me and drawing me into their fight.

"I don't want my little girl painting her fingernails. She's nine years old and you are trying to turn her into a whore just like you. You don't want to be a whore like your mother, do you Bella?" Charlie had raged.

"Bella should get to decide what she wants to wear and do and not be oppressed like a bastard like you Charlie. Right, Bella?" My mother had retorted.

They stood there with their hands on their hips waiting for my response. When I had begun to cry and begged them not make me answer, they had both called me a crybaby and sent me to bed with no dinner. They taught me no one wins, ever, no matter what you say or do.

Charlie was the sheriff in our small town of Forks, Washington. Since my mom had left he had thrown himself into work even more than usual. When he wasn't at work, he was fishing. At least that's what he told me but I could smell the whiskey on his breath more and more when he came home.

He didn't sleep in the bed he and Renee had shared anymore. Instead, he passed out on the couch either from exhaustion or the liquor. He didn't care anymore if I wore nail polish or even if I ate. Charlie didn't care about anything but drowning his sorrows and he made me feel like I was one of the things he was trying to forget. He barely spoke to me. I knew in my gut that Charlie nor Renee felt I was truly worthy of love. They were like actors faking lines.

One morning, I decided I would make him breakfast. He had barely been eating anything and I was getting sick of eating canned and boxed food all the time. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. Charlie wasn't much, but he was my father. I was scared that if I didn't try harder he would leave me, just like Renee had left. I almost felt sorry for him too, he seemed as heartbroken as I about her departure. Renee was gone, with Phil to take care of her. Charlie clearly could not take care of himself but I could take care of my dad. I could cook and clean for him. Maybe make him happy.

I went in to the kitchen with the intention of making pancakes, Charlie's favorite, when there was a knock at the door.

Standing on the threshold was Jacob Black, my dad's deputy. He had always been very kind to me but his eyes never met mine as he asked to speak with Charlie. It took both of us to finally roust him from his drunken slumber. Deputy Black said he needed to speak with Charlie alone and that it was important. I went back into the kitchen to start the pancakes while they talked but within minutes I was interrupted again.

Interrupted by the sound of crashing glass as the father who had quietly been drinking away his heartache for six months suddenly began cursing and throwing furniture.

Deputy Black desperately begged Charlie to calm down. "Charlie, please stop this. You are scaring Bella. You've got to stop this and take care of your daughter."

Charlie continued as if he had not heard the deputy. Jacob blocked my entrance out of the kitchen when I attempted to go to my dad. I had no idea what was going on but I knew something was terribly wrong. I had never seen Charlie act this way.

I watched in horror as my father destroyed our living room. He overturned the furniture and broke the pictures on the wall. He kicked the coffee table, sending the family photo album flying in pieces all over the living room. I watched, grief stricken, as he stomped over them, creasing the edges and smearing the faces with the mud on his boots.

When it was inevitable that there was no dealing with Charlie, Deputy Black looked at the panicked expression on my face, picking me up just as my legs were ready to give out because I was shaking so badly. He carried me out of the house and to the safety of his car.

I was so confused. What could upset Charlie so badly for him to act this way. My heart was beating so fast I felt like I was going to pass out. I wrapped my arms around my middle to try and steady myself. Was he upset over something I had done? What if Charlie didn't want me anymore? The questions were filling my brain making me feel dizzy.

Jacob, as he said I could call him, took me to get a breakfast sandwich and talked about inconsequential things. I wanted to ask him what he had said to Charlie but something stopped me. Something told me that maybe I didn't want to know.

Jacob knew I was worried and tried to take my mind off of it but I just wanted to get home and begin my new life of taking care of Charlie. Wasn't that the plan just hours ago? How can things go so badly so quickly?

After I finished my sausage biscuit, we began the silent drive home. The tension in the car was palpable. I was sick at my stomach with worry, just wanting to put this morning behind me. I was becoming afraid I may not be able to keep my breakfast down. Both of us lost in our own thoughts, Jacob hoping my dad had calmed down and I hoping I could be a comfort to him.

I stepped out of the squad car into our driveway, walking slowly toward the house. A feeling of dread had overcome me as I took the last few steps to the door. I stood staring at the door and listening for sounds from inside. There was nothing but silence.

Jacob reached around me, the knob turning easily in his hand, as he opened the door for me. I hesitantly walked through, into the home I had grown up in. I was prepared for the mess. I had witnessed most of the destruction before Jacob had taken me out.

What I was not prepared for was the sight of my father sprawled on the floor covered in blood, his police issue 9mm still in his hand.

Again, I was carried out of my home by Jacob Black.

The shock kept me quiet on the way to the station as Jacob radioed in what had happened. The sobbing and shaking began as I sat alone in a room begging helplessly for someone to call my mom. I was angry that again I had been left alone with no explanation. Sad that I had been abandoned by another parent. Horrified, knowing that the sight of Charlie and all the blood and destruction would be carved into my memory forever. Terrified of what would happen next.

A while later, a lady who identified herself as Tanya Denali, social worker, came into the room to speak with me. At first, I hated her for what she told me. I needed someone to blame and she was all I had. All the emotion flowed out of me and was replaced by emptiness as I listened to her tell the sad tale that was now my life story.

Charlie was dead. He had shot himself after his rampage through our home. A rampage brought on by Deputy Black coming to notify him that Renee had hung herself in the bathroom of her motel room when she found Phil with another woman. A waitress, I was told.

My life, as I knew it, would never be the same.

Within two hours of waking, both my parents were dead by their own hands and I was alone. An orphan at sixteen. Who would want me when my own parents would rather be dead than with me?

I was taken by Tanya to live with my grandmother, Elizabeth Swan. Gran and I lived comfortably together. Our grief bonding us. We would have tea together in the afternoons and she would tell of the strange dreams she had. Gran was easy to be around. She kept the conversations light and even managed to make me smile a time or two while she chatted on about dreams and their meanings. I was beginning to think that this where I belonged.

We were only granted a single summer together before the doctors found the cancer. She was gone within a month and I was left alone again.

I felt absolutely nothing as I stood by Gran's graveside. I had no feeling left inside of me. No more sorrow. No more tears left to shed. Nothing left within me to give.

I spent the rest of my days, till my eighteenth birthday, in a state home. I learned to keep to myself. It was better to have no one, then you couldn't lose anyone.

The state home is where I begun my routine. Everyday the same. Wake, breakfast, studies, lunch, chores, dinner. Just like always. The schedule made me able to get through the days. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do and I did it. I didn't have to think about it. I didn't have to think about anything. More importantly, I didn't have to feel anything.

None of the other kids in the home bothered me. I didn't even see their faces. It was all a blur. Day after day of the same.

I was forced to see a psychiatrist. They thought I was traumatized but I was okay, all I needed was my routine. The doctors name was Mrs. Zafrina and I hated her. She always wanted me to talk about it. Why couldn't she see that, even though I was miserable, talking about it was torture?  
I imagined her as a woman with the ability to get inside your head and make you see unspeakable horrors or absolutely nothing at all. Either option, a terrible one. I mostly ignored Mrs. Zafrina. Going to her office once a week was just another part of the routine.

When I was released from the state home, I took the money they gave me and ran as far away as I could afford to and got an apartment. I got a job serving coffee at the university cafe in NY and I put myself through college. Always keeping the routine. Days that strayed from the routine were difficult.

Once, while I was walking to the cafe across the university grounds, I heard a shot and I immediately ran back to the bed in my apartment where I stayed for 3 days, crying and pulling at my hair, feeling every bit of despondency I always refused to feel and had pushed to the back of my mind. It was as if I was being forced to acknowledge the huge hole inside my chest.

Eventually, I had to go back to the comfort of the routine. The routine was all I knew. The only way I knew to move on was just to keep going. Doing what normal people did, work, eat, and sleep. I found out that there had been a walk for charity that day and the shot I heard was a blank to signal the start of the race.

I shook myself from my thoughts and glanced at the clock. Time to leave for work. I got up from the table and rinsed my bowl out in the sink, slipped on my shoes, and went over to his poster on the wall.

Edward Cullen. Famous actor and musician. I whispered I love you to him and kissed his papery lips before heading out the door. Just like always.  
As I walked I allowed my mind to be filled with thoughts of Edward Cullen. He is truly a God in a heavenly body. He has the most beautiful green eyes that seemed to sparkle and this radiant smile that I liked to pretend was all for me. His hair was a force of its own, sticking out everywhere in the most vibrant bronze color.

He was tall and lanky with broad shoulders. He was a sight to behold but he more than the way he looks. Edward Cullen also has the voice of an angel and a heart to match. He's smart, sensible, and funny. He is, well...everything. Everything I want and everything I don't deserve.

I felt somehow drawn to him. Besides his poster on my wall, I kept a picture of him in my purse and one in my desk as well. I knew it was silly but he was part of the routine. He comforted me. He was the only thing that could help me through a bad day. I could just look at him and I feel peaceful. I rationalized that he was safe to love because I didn't really know him. I couldn't hurt him and he couldn't hurt me. He made the hole in my heart feel better. He was like the sun, warming me.

I has isolated myself from everyone and everything for as long as I could remember. Everything but him. Sometimes, I worried he wasn't real. That I was dreamed him up. Could someone be that perfect? I needed him though. Needed to know he existed in order for my soul to survive.

For the last two years, I had lived on autopilot, going about my routine, speaking to no one and thinking only of Edward Cullen. I envisioned various scenarios of meeting him and how we would fall in love. He was the star of all my fantasies. In my mind he rescued me from my dark existence. He loved me and would never leave me.

I liked to pretend that I was Mrs. Cullen and that he would be there when I got home. I would cook us a lovely dinner and he would take me to bed where I would sleep soundly in his arms. But they were just fantasies. In real life, someone like him could never love someone as damaged as I.  
I arrived at the library and set about my tasks for the day. I replaced books on the shelves that been returned and sent out letters about those that were overdue. I didn't talk to any of my co-workers and they had long since given up trying to talk to me. If a customer needed help, I would simply point to the head librarian at the desk and walk away. I kept my head down and my thoughts on Edward and I was able to make it through till lunch.

I walked to my usual restaurant and ate my usual meal. Lunch was the most difficult part of my day because I had to speak to someone to order my food. I dreaded this part of the day. I never made eye contact, just ordered quietly and quickly as possible and then sat the same table in the back as I did everyday.

I smiled a little to myself as I pretended that Edward was with me and we were sharing a romantic lunch together. I knew I must look like a crazy woman to the others in the restaurant but that was good, it kept them away from me.

After lunch, I walked back to the library the same way as I had come. When I returned I resumed my duties and kept my mind occupied with Edward until it was time to leave for my apartment. Just like always, I chose a book to take with me that I could get lost in for the evening. I avoided television and newspapers, so many terrible things happened on television and in newspapers. I preferred to read novels where I could pretend Edward and I were the characters who would fall in love and live happily ever after.

At five o'clock, I locked the doors to the library, and with my book in my purse, I left for the day. I

watched my feet as I walked and counted my steps. 1 - Edward, 2- Edward, 3 - Edward. When I reached step 1, 650 - Edward, I looked up, knowing I was home.

Inside my apartment, I locked the world out and went to him, whispering my love and kissing him again, the same as when I had left this morning. I poured myself another bowl of cereal and sat down to read my evening book.

At ten o'clock, I stood and stretched the soreness of sitting so long out of my limbs and went to bed hoping just this once I could dream of him instead of the nightmares I knew would come. Just like always.

I woke the next morning and was relieved that there had been no dreams. When I glanced at the clock, I noticed that not only was it 8: 15, but instead of my wind up clock on the bedside table, in it's place was a Bose radio. I stretched in the bed trying to clear my thoughts when I felt a warm and hard body next to mine. I rolled over and smiled, "Edward, I had the strangest dream," I muttered sleepily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to my beta Krystih for being her fabulous self and to Tina for being just like me. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. **

**No copyright intended. Stephenie Meyer owns everything good.**

I woke with the taste of cornflakes in my mouth and the feeling that I had overslept. Glancing at the clock I noticed it was 8:15. Still early. I rolled over and hugged the warm body next to me. "Edward, wake up, I had the strangest dream".

"You always have strange dreams, love," he said, his lip turning up into my favorite crooked smile.

Edward is truly a God in a heavenly body. He has the most beautiful green eyes that seem to sparkle, and this radiant smile that is all for me. His hair is a force of its own, sticking out everywhere in the most vibrant bronze color.

He's tall and lanky with broad shoulders. He is a sight to behold but he is more than the way he looks. Edward Cullen also has the voice of an angel and a heart to match. He's smart, sensible, and funny. He is my everything.

Famous actor, musician, and my husband. It still amazes me how blessed I am to have him in my life. Even on the worst of days he can make me feel better. And he also happens to have the most luscious lips, I thought to myself as I leaned forward to kiss him.

"Are you going to tell me about your dream?" he asked, drawing my attention from his lips back up to his eyes. "What dream?" I asked as I leaned toward him for another kiss. He chuckled and met me half way, pulling me toward him.

I have loved him since I first laid eyes on him. He came to me like an angel when I needed someone most and I easily allowed my thoughts to completely center around him from that day forward. We have both been through a difficult time but we came through together. We are survivors.

Edward had become famous just like he said, and I always knew, he would. I hadn't done so bad for myself either. I am a psychologist with my own private practice. I enjoy helping people. The way I saw it, both Edward and I helped people's minds. Edward helped them forget their problems and I held their hands when they were ready to work through them.

"It's almost time to get up, love," Edward whispered in my ear. "Almost," I said as I rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist, feeling his erection against my stomach. I continued kissing his jaw and down his neck.

Edward hissed when I took his cock in my hand and began rubbing it between my folds. "Mmmm, you are so wet Bella. Did you dream of me?," he crooned. His words caused me to stop. I could almost remember the dream. It was right there in the back in of my mind. It seemed somehow important but I couldn't grasp it.

As suddenly as the notion came, it was gone and all I could feel was his body under mine. "Need you now Bella, please," he panted. I didn't make him wait, impaling myself on him in one smooth practiced move.

Every time with Edward feels like the first time. There was no greater feeling in the world than him inside of me. I stayed still for a moment, gasping as I adjusted to his size. Everything about Edward's body was long and firm, and every inch of him was beautiful.

Slowly, I began to move on top of him. He met me thrust for thrust and his hands moved to my hips, gripping me tightly. I leaned forward, placing my hands on either side of his head so I could pepper his face with kisses.

"Oh baby, you feel so good," I moaned, raising back up on top of him. I wanted to feel him deeper, ride him harder. Edward was grunting continuously. "Ungh, yes. Fuck baby, I'm going to come. Come with me, please. Please, come Bella."

Edward lifted one hand to my breast, rolling my nipple between his finger and thumb. The other hand he snaked between our bodies, pinching my clit in the same way. It was too much. He knew just how to bring me to my peak.

My orgasm hit hard, rolling through my body, making my toes curl as I screamed his name. Edward cried out too, as his orgasm hit seconds after mine. I ground my hips into his, leaning down to kiss him once more before rolling to my side and cuddling with him as we both came down from our high.

"Good for you?" he asked, still breathing heavily.

"God, yes. Just like always."

As soon as I said the words, that nagging feeling in the back of my mind was there again. It felt as if there was something I should remember but try as might, I just couldn't.

I pushed it aside and turned over, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, knowing that anything I needed to remember would be written down in my planner. I was a very orderly person. I liked a routine and I always kept a schedule.

"Come shower with me," I told Edward.

"How about you shower with me and I make you come...again," he smirked.

I took in the sight of his naked form before me. His long graceful neck and that sexy hollow spot at the base of his throat. His broad shoulders and chiseled abs. The way his cock stood hard and erect against his stomach. His muscled thighs. Hell, even his feet were cute. Everything about him drew me in and I knew I'd never turn him down.

The lopsided grin on his face told me he knew the exact same thing.

Two orgasms, and half an hour later, I stood at the island in the center of our kitchen, in my black dress pants and white button down shirt, fixing myself a bowl of cornflakes when Alice came bouncing through the back door.

Alice is Edward's sister and my office manager slash best friend. She's also our next door neighbor and the wife of Edward's production company partner and best friend, Jasper Whitlock. Alice is the kind of person that comes into every situation like a whirlwind, completely taking over. I loved her for it.

"It's going to a good day Bella. I ordered fresh flowers to be delivered to the office this morning. We have the morning without appointments to catch up on paper work and we are having lunch together and then a new patient this afternoon. I scheduled extra time for you to get to know her. Then..."

"Alice, wo! Settle down. We are not even at work yet." I rolled my eyes at her.

"I'm sorry," Alice sighed heavily. "Good morning Bella," she smiled, starting again.

"Good morning Alice," I returned her smile.

Edward came down the stairs three at a time. He kissed Alice's forehead, poured coffee in a cup as well grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He scooped up his keys and Ray-bans, and slipped his feet into the oldest pair of black Nike's in the world. Seriously, they should be in a museum...or condemned.

He was muttering the entire time about being late before he finally turned to me. "I have to go babe, I'm running late."

"So I heard. You have the photo shoot this morning for Rolling Stone right?"

"I do," he smiled as he stalked closer to me.

"EDWARD!" Alice screamed. "You are not wearing that out of the house, let alone to a photo shoot," Alice said, using her most stern voice.

Besides his relic shoes, my husband was wearing a white t-shirt with the neckline stretched out, a flannel shirt that was completely threadbare and holey jeans. He never even glanced toward Alice as he replied, "It's clean", while he shrugged his shoulders.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck, giving me goosebumps. I giggled as I whispered in his ear. "You're perfect."

"I'll see you tonight?" he asked.

"Of course. Just like always," I told him, our eyes locked as each of us leaned slowly in for a kiss.

With Edward out the door and his tires squealing down the driveway, I slipped my feet into my favorite black leather Mary Jane heels and put the lid on my coffee cup. "Are you ready to go Alice?"

Alice was still furious about Edward's clothes and she complained about it the entire way to the office.

"The clothes he wears is a reflection on us all Bella. What if someone finds out I saw him in those clothes this morning and I did not rip them off and burn them?"

I just giggled at her as I imagined ripping off Edward's clothes for a much better purpose than what Alice was thinking of.

"Bella, are you listening to me? I would not let a homeless person dress like that but I stood right there in that kitchen and let my own brother walk right out the door," she fumed as we arrived at the door to our office.

Alice continued to go on and on about Edward's lack of fashion sense, as we entered the room. I headed straight for my office, shutting the door, effectively blocking Alice out. I knew I would never get anything done if I wasn't left on my own to do them. Alice was too much fun to have around and nearly impossible to ignore when she was in the same room.

I immersed myself quickly in making and filing notes and signing insurance forms all morning. Before I knew it, the clock said 11: 30 and I was finally finished. I exited my office and saw Alice arranging a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers in a vase.

"Hey Alice, want to go to lunch early? I'm all caught up and I want to stop at the library for a new book."

"Sure Bella, I'm all ready, just let me grab my purse."

Alice and I ate lunch at Dojo's. I had the chicken cutlet with Japanese BBQ sauce, home fries and a side of green salad. It was my favorite restaurant and I always ate the same thing.

After we left the restaurant, Alice pulled me into a boutique for shoe shopping, although what I really wanted to do was go to the library. In fact, I felt like the library is where I should be. But I shrugged off the feeling and followed Alice back to the office, somehow carrying all the bags, even though I didn't buy anything.

Edward called to let me know that the photo shoot had went well and that he and Jasper were on their way to the recording studio. He told me that they had ordered pizza for lunch to be delivered there. Edward and I laughed together when he told me that Jasper had been moaning all day about how Edward's clothes were going to cause him marriage problems.

Back at the office, Rosalie and Emmett were already there for their pre-marriage couples counseling. They were my favorite clients. They argued constantly. Rosalie bordered on spousal abuse but it all seemed to work for them and I honestly believed they would make it.

The same as during all our other sessions, the couple went back and forth between calling each other horrible names and making out wildly on my brown leather sofa. They were intense people, exhausting in fact. I could feel the tension in my neck and shoulders as I showed them out.

Then the afternoon took a strange turn. My new patient did not show up. I couldn't even call to check on her because Alice couldn't find her file. It was such an un-Alice thing to do. She swore the janitor must have taken it, but that seemed unlikely.

The situation bothered me tremendously all through the evening as Edward and I lay in bed reading together.

In the five years Alice had worked for me, she never lost a patient file before. But regardless, why had no one called to explain the cancellation? Why could I not remember her name or reading over her chart or making notes the way I did before seeing any new patient?

I felt that I had somehow failed and I couldn't shake the depression that descended upon me. I said a prayer after turning out the lights that this patient did not fall through the cracks because of my mistakes.

I woke up during the night crying hysterically. The clock on my shabby bedside table read 4:17. I had dreamed of Edward Cullen, that much I remembered, but it seemed so much more important than that. It felt like I had lost him which was impossible because I had never had him. I was just the poor broken, friendless, spinster librarian. A freak.

I had this haunting feeling that I had failed, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember why. I couldn't remember a single thing about the dream except that Edward was in it. And that if only briefly, even if only in a dream, I had been happy. I mourned the loss of that feeling.

I felt the depression settling over me like a cloud. There would be no reprieve of numbness today. No, today was going to be a very bad day indeed.

Just like always.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to my always lovely beta, Krystih and my girls, RPfangirlDC and Tina.

Stephenie Meyer's owns everything but the plot and that is mine.

6:28

6:29

6:30

I lie alone, in my simple, twin size bed, watching the numbers on the clock change. The clock just ticks away no matter what else in the world is going on. No matter what happens, time stops for no one. Least of all, for me.

This was no revelation, I, of course, had always known this fact as does everyone else on the planet, but somehow this morning it was more disturbing. I tugged at the white duvet, pulling it closer, bunching it up under my chin.

Nothing had happened and yet everything inside of me was shifting.

There was no denying that it felt like time was slipping by me. Like I had been thrown head first into some kind of vertigo. Free falling.

I cried softly, to myself, because there was no one else around to care. For the first time ever, this upset me as well.

There had never been anyone who cared if I was crying before, so why was it such a terrible thing all of a sudden? Isn't this the way I had decided I wanted my life to be? Although I couldn't remember when I had made that decision.

There were too many things I couldn't remember. I couldn't even remember my last name. It made no sense. What kind of person doesn't remember their own last name? It's ridiculous! But as I lay there between the slightly scratchy, sterile white linen sheets, I just couldn't remember.

When the anxiety had finally overwhelmed me, I jumped from the bed and began searching through the drawers of the wooden desk that sat along one of plain white walls of the bedroom. But it held only some stationary and a few pencils. I looked under the bed as well but found nothing.

Shouldn't there be a utility bill or pay check stubs? Something with my name on the paper? But I couldn't find anything.

The only furniture in the sparse room was the plain, metal framed bed, a small wooden table that sat next to it containing a clock and the book I brought home from the library, and the wooden three drawer desk and matching chair. On the desk sat a half eaten bowl of cornflakes. It somehow seemed that there should be more. Was there no proof of my past or my identity at all?

How long had I been living like this? The room seemed strangely foreign to me. I couldn't remember sitting at that desk or purchasing either it or the bed. Was my existence so inconsequential? Was this a choice I made? I realized it must have been. I had to have made a series of choices that led me here to this dreary isolated bedroom. In an apartment I couldn't remember ever paying the rent on.

I had no more strength to look elsewhere in the apartment and again find nothing. I climbed back into the bed and pulled the covers back over me. As I did, I noticed something else. The walls were bare. Nothing but a single poster of Edward Cullen.

On the wall beside my bed was a profile photo of him. He was wearing sunglasses and a white t-shirt with the neckline stretched out. It was threadbare and had little holes in the shoulder of the sleeve facing the camera. He was smiling and the sunshine was like a halo around his head. He was beautiful, almost angelic.

My mind swarmed again with more questions I couldn't answer. Hard as I try to focus, I just couldn't. My eyes and thoughts continuously returned to him. I tried to concentrate on one thing at a time but it always comes back to him.

More than my imagination had ever dreamed before. The way he smelled. Had I ever wondered that before? Yet the scent was so clear to me now. He smelled like the woods and green apples and cigarettes.

Something is happening to me and I had no way to explain it and no one to explain it to. I can't remember the simplest things, yet I have vivid recall of the way Edward Cullen smells. I have no idea how or why I knew his scent, I just did.

Thoughts of despair filled my head pulling me deeper into the confusion that was drowning me. I own nothing. I remember nothing. I am nothing.

But upon waking this morning it all just feels so wrong. The apartment, the bedroom, everything, including me, feels like it doesn't belong. Like it's not real.

I pulled at my hair in frustration. Angry that all these blurry memories were swirling around in my head but just out of my grasp. Scared of what else I would forget. What if I forgot where I lived while I was at work? I shuddered at the thought. What if tomorrow I couldn't remember where I worked? I was cold, and exhausted, and my head ached.

I couldn't remember my own name or how I got to the point where I am now, but I know beyond the shadow of a doubt, what his breathy moans, rumbling through his chest, sounded like during love making.

I would gladly give up knowledge of my last name if I could just retain the memory of how I knew about his sex sounds. But it was just another elusive vision.

I could feel the winds of change sweeping all around me. It's terrifying. I lay in bed with no one to talk to and no where to turn for answers.

When the clock turned 7:15 I hauled myself out of bed to get ready for work. What else could I do? I had briefly contemplated calling in sick but I would have to speak to someone if I did. I didn't even have a phone. I had never had to call anyone since I had lived here. I couldn't recollect if I had ever called in before. One more thing I couldn't remember.

I walked across the cold, bare, wood floors to the small bathroom. Turning the brass knob, I stepped in, shutting the door behind me. I closed my eyes and braced myself for what I knew needed to be done.

With a deep breath, I slowly opened my eyes and looked around the room, for what felt like the first time. The room looked almost sterile with its lack of color. One whole wall was taken up by the white bathtub that was surrounded by a clear shower curtain. The white toilet sat against the opposite wall with a single roll of toilet tissue resting on the back lid. The opposite wall to my right held a small mirror. Underneath it, a white sink attached to a vanity with one door in the front.

Next to the mirror, hung a poster of Edward laying in a bed of all white, his fingers interlaced behind his head. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. He seemed to radiate a sense of calm. I breathed in and forced myself to drop to my knees and open the vanity door.

What I found shouldn't have surprised me. It shouldn't have. I found exactly what I thought I would find. Nothing. Just an empty cabinet with a steel water pipe running out and through the wall. Yet the shock I felt was immense as I stared into the cabinet with my mouth agape.

After an immeasurable amount of time, I silently stood and stripped off the oversize, white t-shirt I wore. I slid the plain, cotton panties down my legs, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them and into the shower. Turning on the water, I barely felt it wash across my body. I was completely numb. I stood with my hands pressed against the cold, tile wall for support. I could feel the weight of the world pressing so hard on me it threatened to double me over.

The hot water did nothing to ease the tension in my neck and shoulders. The cold water I turned on to wake me up, did nothing to clear my mind.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off quickly avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I didn't need to see the swollen, purplish bruises, from lack of sleep, under my eyes to know they were there.

Still wrapped in the towel, I walked to my tiny closet to take out my clothes. I swung the door open and every muscle in body tightened as I peered inside. In my closet there hung only two white padded clothes hangers. One held a pair of black dress pants and the other a white button down shirt. I looked down at the floor and searched the darkened corners, my panic growing rapidly. What had I done with my clothes? Was this all I ever had? I couldn't remember. I sunk to the floor grasping the only clothes I apparently owned. I felt so alone, so empty and worthless. Worse was the knowledge that these things were true. In my ignorance, I had made it so.

This is it. I have finally lost my mind. All those times I had pushed bothersome thoughts to the back of my mind in order to not think of them has caught up with me. Causing me to forget even the most mundane irony was not lost on me and I dissolved into hysterical laughter.

The girl everyone calls crazy has gone crazy. I laughed uncontrollably, barely able to breathe as I writhed on the floor. No one will even notice any difference. This thought sobered me and the laughter subsided, leaving behind hiccups and a tight chest.

There is no where to go and no one to tell. No one to care enough to help.

Just like always.

I stood quickly and slammed the closet door shut. I hurriedly dressed. I had to go about my day as usual, I decided. The routine is all I have.

Maybe if I can get out of this stifling apartment something will jog my memory. What else can I do?

I tore through the apartment in a frenzy, skipping my cornflakes, not wanting to open any more cabinets or doors, except the door out of here. It felt like the walls were closing in on me. I watched them breathe in and out, pressing closer and closer, threatening to overtake me. I had to get out of out of here, be free of this place. I couldn't bear it any longer.

But I couldn't help but notice, as I stood in the foyer between the living room and kitchen slipping my feet into plain, black flats, that the only thing on the walls in these rooms was posters of him as well. I walked to the one hanging on the wall beside the brown sofa in the living room. Edward Cullen. In this particular photo, he stood in a leather jacket, smoking a cigarette, his mouth forming a perfect pout. I stroked my finger across his cheek on the glossy paper. Closing my eyes, I could feel the warmth from his skin and the stubble from his jaw. The feeling was so strong, so real, it rocked me back on my heels and sucked the air from my lungs.

Clutching my chest, I forced my eyes open and looked at him again but the memory was suddenly gone, just as quickly as it had appeared. I was seized by a crippling thought, what if I forgot him too? I shook the thought from my mind because he is the last straw in my sanity. The mere thought of not having him in my life in some way left an unfathomable gaping hole in my chest.

"Edward please don't leave me. I can't forget you or there's no reason to go on. I need to know you exist in order to survive."

"I love you," I whispered quickly. I kissed his papery lips as I turned and left the apartment on shaky, unsure feet, slamming the door behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

Once again, thanks to my lovely and talented beta Krystih.

Stephenie Meyer owns the characters. I own the plot.

I was half way down the outside stairs of my apartment when I realized I had failed to brush my hair or teeth. I had refused to look at my reflection in the mirror after my shower and it had completely slipped my mind. Then it occurred to me that it didn't matter. I was a crazy woman who didn't remember her last name. Moreover, I was a crazy woman and no one in the world even knew my first name. I looked like what I was, mentally unstable, alone, and crazy so I just kept going.

I walked with my head down watching my feet on the sidewalk. My hair, already in disarray, blowing into my mouth and eyes. I didn't even bother to try and remove it. My shoulders slumped, the stress weighing down on me, causing me to hunch over. I had failed to dress myself properly. Failed to remember important personal things. Those memories seemingly replaced by fantasy memories of a man I love but have never met. It was more than that though, I felt like I had failed myself. Failed the real me inside that I could have been if...

If what? I didn't know. So I just continued putting one foot in the front of the other.

96 Edward... 97 Edward... 98 Edward...

I couldn't help thinking how soothing it would be to have someone to confide in. A friend and confidant I could tell anything to without fear of judgement. I had forsaken anyone who had ever shown an interest in me, isolating myself in loneliness. I had abandoned any hope I had ever had of a happy future. Now there is nothing but endless days and nights of emptiness.

I slowed as I approached the brick and stone building. Step number 1,645 Edward leading me right to the side entrance. The library had been built in 1902. Being the only free library in the area, it was well frequented and had been expanded many times. Now three stories tall and extending the entire length of the block, the once poor library boasts a clock tower and turret high above the west wing. The size of the building and the amount of daily foot traffic was somewhat intimidating but also made it easy to hide among the stacks of books and avoid a great deal of the patrons.

I used my key to unlock the employee entrance of the library. Opening the door, I stepped inside with a deep sigh and a heavy heart.

I busied myself turning on the lights and computers. I moved robotically from one place to the next, mechanically flipping switches and pushing buttons. My footsteps were loud on the linoleum and the room was suddenly too bright and noisy. I was unable to shut down my mind and hide within myself as I normally did. I felt emotionally raw as opposed to the safe, numbness I had previously wrapped myself in.

Before I had finished my morning tasks, my co-workers were arriving for the day. They walked through the same door I had entered and went right to their work, without glancing my way. This morning, for the first time, their actions hurt even though I knew it was my own fault that they treated me this way. Once again, I let my head fall and my shoulders slump forward continuing with my routine.

When everything was prepared for the day, the main doors were opened and patrons began filing through, browsing for books, studying at the tables, and taking advantage of the technological devices. A nameless, faceless crowd that I had previously ignored now made me feel vulnerable and exposed. I wrapped my arms around my chest trying unsuccessfully to ease the ache in my chest.

I walked behind the desk at the front of the library and retrieved my cart with the stacks of returned books that needed to be placed back on the shelves in their proper places. I stopped to pull the book I had taken home to read last night from my purse where it hung from a hook secured to the wall. I placed it on top of the others and then continued maneuvering the cart toward the long rows of bookcases.

I stopped at the first row and began checking the decimal numbers on the spines of the volumes to see where they belonged, placing them in groups of likeness to make replacement more efficient. When I picked up the book that had been my companion the previous night, I noticed a corner of white peeking out from between the pages of the novel.

I picked up the book, holding out in front of me with both hands. The pages easily fell open to reveal a white folded slip of paper nestled between pages 405 and 406. Ice cold fear seized me at that moment. With shaky hands and labored breathing I stared at it. It was silly. Why would I be afraid of a piece of paper? I had no recollection of placing this paper inside the book. My mind told me this couldn't possibly belong to me, yet my heart seemed to know better.

A large part of me really wanted to just close the book, sandwiching the folded paper back between the pages of the novel and place it back on the shelf, forgetting I had ever seen it. Instead, I watched, almost as if detached from my body, while my own hands betrayed me. My fingers reached to grasp the paper while the book fell to the floor by my feet with a thud.

One of my co-workers, a tall blond man with childlike curls cascading down to his shoulders, strolled over quickly but quietly, picking up the book one handed and placed it back on the cart, without so much as acknowledging my existence. I stood silently watching as he rounded the corner of shelves and disappeared. Then I slowly turned back to the paper in my hands.

My hands were shaking so badly it was difficult to unfold the paper. Finally pulling it open, I saw that it was a form. I quickly scanned through the information, seeing that it was the kind of form doctor's kept in files and constantly update. There were the typical places for family and medical history and some notes scribbled at the bottom. But the one thing that held my attention suddenly paralyzed me, my body unable to move, my breath and heartbeat ceasing for a moment. The sight of my own name at the top of the form stared back at me.

I read the name allowed. It sounded sweet, and right, and gave me sense of peace. My body relaxed and the world seemed to shift as everything in my sight turned blurry. I blinked my eyes to clear my vision and then lifted my hand to trace the letters written on the paper. As I did, something on the back of my hand caught the sunlight pouring through the windows and sparkled. I held my hand up in front of my face and starred at the wedding ring on my finger repeating the words written on the paper.

Isabella Cullen.

Confusion and dizziness swept over me as two very different sets of memories invaded my brain in one instant. I could feel my mouth gaping open and my eyes rolling back in my head just as my legs went limp under me and I began to fall. Suddenly, two warm and strong arms caught me. One arm cradled around my back and the other under the back of legs to easily lift me. I felt safe and secure instantly as my hero cradled me to his chest.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply the woodsy smell of green apples and cigarettes. Recognition dawning on me as I opened my eyes and lifted my head to gaze into the lush forest green eyes of the man I love.

"Ed-war-rd? Are...are you r-real?," I squeaked out loudly.

"Yes Bella. Are you ok? What's wrong?" he spoke softly, sounding concerned.

"Edward, there is something wrong with me...mentally. I think I need help," I told him sincerely.

"What's wrong love? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

When I hesitated, he continued. "What is it love?" I smiled despite the circumstances as the feeling of home he evoked enveloped me. Soon, I felt a pressing need to tell him everything, knowing that he would help me. I trusted him and he trusted me, I could see it written all over his face. I needed to be as honest as possible without alarming him any more than necessary.

"Tell me...please," he pressed.

"I don't know," I answered him genuinely.

"Bella, you're scaring me, I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

"No, no hospitals," I said, my voice gaining pitch as I began to tremble in his arms.

"Bella, you just fainted. You admit there is something wrong with you and you are shaking all over. Let me take care of you and stop being so damn stubborn for once. You can't handle everything by yourself."

His words struck a nerve and I knew he was right, I couldn't manage all of life's ups and downs alone and I also knew I didn't want to. This revelation humbled me and felt like a step in the right direction. But I still didn't want to go to the hospital. While I was able to admit that I needed and wanted help getting through whatever was happening to me, I knew it was something doctors couldn't help me with, it was something I needed to work through in my own way.

"No hospitals," I told him adamantly. "Take me home Edward please," I begged him. "Take me home with you. I need to feel safe. I'll tell you everything if you'll just please take me home and stay close to me. Please, I need you." I raved, my voice nearing a hysterical pitch.

Edward now looked as scared as I felt. "Alright, I'll take you home love and we'll talk," he said as he set me back on my still wobbly legs. I quickly stuffed the form of paper with my name on it in my pocket and took his hand. I leaned into his side as we walked to the exit.

I suddenly wasn't sure why we were at the library and I couldn't remember how I had gotten here. Had I arrived on my own? How had Edward found me? My head ached as the questions flooded me. I couldn't even recollect waking up this morning though I remembered perfectly well the terror and despair that been my shadow lately. The ever present feeling that there was some significant knowledge I required for my life to be complete, loomed, making me apprehensive. The urge to discover this missing information and the fear of actually finding it, overwhelmed me in equal measure.

My stomach was in knots and my mind was racing. I knew I had to tell Edward everything, I wanted to, but for now I just needed to enjoy being next to him. I knew I was clinging and it was scaring him more, but I just couldn't stand for there to be any space between us. I was frightened if I let go of him he would disappear.

I pressed my face into his side, as my fingers gripped at his thin blue t-shirt, allowing him to guide me through the parking lot to our car. When we reached the inconspicuous silver Volvo, Edward unlocked the passenger door for me and helped me inside, reaching across me for the seat belt then fastening it snugly across my chest and lap. He closed the door, glancing at me worriedly.

When he had slid gracefully into his seat and started the ignition, I leaned over against him, as far as the harness would allow. He smiled down at me reassuringly before pulling out of the parking space but the crease between his eyes and the protruding vein in his forehead was physical proof of his anxiety.

Edward pulled out of the parking lot onto the road and drove much too fast through the streets. I was glad he was driving because I wasn't yet ready to explain to him that I couldn't exactly remember where we lived. I sat next to him in silence as I tried to organize my thoughts and decide how to tell Edward what was happening to me when I didn't understand it myself. Edward seemed to sense my scattered thoughts and remained quiet as well.

When we pulled into the driveway, I instantly recognized the large white clapboard house with a wrap around porch and rose bushes all along the front, much to my relief. Edward helped me out of the car and into the house with as much care as he had helped me out of the library.

We walked through the kitchen and up the stairs to our bedroom. He led me to our huge four poster bed and gestured for me sit. He kneeled before me, removing my shoes then lifting my legs onto the end of the bed. He gently pushed me down so that I was stretched out on my side with my head on the thick fluffy pillows.

Edward then toed off his own shoes and removed his shirt, rounding the bed and crawling in next to me. He snuggled close, wrapping one arm around my waist, pulling me back against his chest, while propping himself up on his other elbow.

He didn't ask any questions or make any demands, just patiently waited for me to begin.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to my beta Krystih and the reviews and nice comments I have gotten on this story. Once again, Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I looked everywhere for Edward but alas I don't him either.

_He didn't ask any questions or make any demands, just patiently waited for me to begin._

We lay together on top of the crisp sheets and white duvet. With Edward spooned against my back, I could feel his chest rise and fall. The sensation of his heartbeat, the warmth of his body and his breath against my neck. Most importantly, I could feel the love he exuded, love for me, and it gave me courage. I reveled in his affection as I gathered my thoughts.

"Edward, I'm afraid," I began, his presence not able to stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks as the weight of the situation overwhelmed me. At once his mouth was at my ear whispering words of comfort, "Bella, my love," The grip of his arm around my body tightened and he peppered my neck and face with light soothing kisses.

"I'm so scared Edward. I don't know what's happening to me. I-I don't even know where to start. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe I am losing my mind. I think I might be going crazy. It sure as hell feels like it." I rambled out in one, long, shaky breath, before the sobs broke through, becoming loud and preventing me from continuing.

"Calm down, Love, please," Edward begged. "There is nothing that we can't get through together. Tell me what has happened to you."

"N-n-no-o-o," I wailed.

Slowly, he began to rock back and forth with me. "I'm here for you," he whispered, "just like always". His words brought back more memories and my breath caught in my throat. I quickly jerked away and sat up in the bed, turning my body and my horrified expression toward him.

He looked so wounded by my actions that I instantly regretted them. Guilt swept over me. He was trying to help me and I was alienating him. This revelation brought on a fresh wave of weeping and panic. _What if I didn't have him in my life?_ I knew with distinct clarity what it would feel like to be invisible to him, though I had no idea how I had obtained this knowledge.

I threw myself at him, catching him off guard and nearly rolling us both off the edge of the bed. My body slammed into his, pushing him onto his back. I crashed my lips into his with such force that my teeth rattled. I needed to know he was real. More, I needed to know I was real. I was suddenly so frightened that I was going to lose him. I wanted to feel him, all of him. I wanted him to make me feel alive. I needed him to make me feel...anything.

Refusing to break our kiss, I lifted my body just enough to press my hands between our bodies and fumble for the button of his jeans. Then, his large hand was over mine, gently but firm he stilled my pursuit and lifted me away from him.

His rejection stung and brought on yet another wave of tears. I hung my head in my hands feeling pathetic and ashamed. Edward pulled my hands away, and with his fingers on my chin, lifted my face to look at him.

"I just, I can't do _that_ right now Bella. Not with you acting erratically and crying uncontrollably. It just doesn't feel right. We need to talk, Love. You need to tell me what's bothering you, please."

I knew he was right. We needed to talk. Sex was certainly not going to fix whatever was wrong with me. But I still needed to feel him, be connected to him. So, I scooted across the bed and climbed quickly into his lap. Edward leaned against the oak, wood headboard and wrapped his arms around me, rubbing soothing circles on my back as I nuzzled my nose into his chest. Closing my eyes, I began to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, inhaling that wonderful scent that was all Edward, to calm myself.

"Edward, do you love me?" I asked tentatively.

"Of course I do. You know that," he answered bewildered.

Speaking quietly I began my story, "I do, but lately I feel like I am leading two different lives. Like on the inside I am a very different person, a person that has closed herself off from the world and is very lonely, frightened, and broken. I have these feelings, hallucinations ..."

Edward's grip on me tightened almost painfully, "You're having hallucinations, Bella?"

"Maybe. I don't know what they are, but I hear, and see, or even smell things, and all of a sudden I remember a life I don't know how I remember. A life without any hope or happiness. At the same time I seem to be forgetting things too. I see a different path. A life without you. A life of misery and I get the feeling it's a misery of my own making. I feel that somewhere in all the confusion inside my brain there exists some knowledge that is imperative. An epiphany that I must find but I don't know how."

"Tell me what happened at the library, Bella," Edward asked, as he soothingly rubbed my arm.

"I couldn't remember my name," I admitted hesitantly, "I-I don't remember how I got there. "I began to shake and tried in vain to scoot to closer to him, but I was as close as I could get, and it still wasn't enough. I settled for gripping his hand tightly in both of mine.

"What do you remember, Love," he asked, placing light kisses on my neck and shoulder.

"I couldn't remember who I was...well, my last name and I felt very emotionally fragile. I felt as if the harder I tried to remember the more vague my memories became." I raised my head slightly toward him to gauge his reaction, "I didn't remember knowing you or anything about our life together."

"Did something happen to help you remember?" he asked, his breathing becoming more erratic. I sensed this was hard for him to hear as it was for me to tell.

Slowly, I raised my hand and gazed at my hand with a small smile, "my wedding ring".

I didn't want to tell him about the paper I had found. I had a gut feeling that to tell him was a very bad idea so I kept it to myself.

Edward lay his palm over my hand, allowing our rings to shine together as the light of the room bounced off the gold and diamonds. "I'm going to call and make you an appointment to speak with a professional," he said, his eyes still fixed on the sparkles from our symbol of love.

"No," I squeaked out sounding childish even to my own ears. "No, I don't want to see a shrink, I _am_ a shrink for God sakes." I pulled away slightly, covering my face with my hands, my entire body tense again.

"Bella, you are having trouble telling fantasy from reality. You nearly fainted in the library today," his voice becoming high pitched, as he lifted his hand to roughly, pulling at his already unruly locks of hair, "and you have me scared out of mind." He sighed deeply, "How many times have you told a patient of yours that admitting you need guidance and seeking out help is healthy, not confirmation that you are crazy?" His eyebrow quirked up as he gazed at me for affirmation.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I couldn't remember any of my patients with the exception of the patient who never showed...was it yesterday? No, I better keep that to myself too. Still, by the look on his face, he expected an answer. Before I could try again to talk him out of it, the phone rang. Funny, I couldn't remember having a phone.

There was so much I was hazy about. Maybe I should talk to a doctor.

I climbed out of Edward's lap and off the bed, making my way to the bathroom as Edward answered the ringing. I splashed cool water on my face and neck, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I heard Edward on the phone telling someone that "_now was not a good time_" over and over.

After a few moments, Edward knocked lightly on the door telling me that Alice and Jasper were on their way over but that we would definitely be continuing our conversation later.

I hurriedly finished in the bathroom and stepped back into the bedroom glancing around for Edward. When I was positive he was not in the room, I reached into my back pocket, pulling out the the form I found in the library book and stuffed it into my purse, zipping it shut.

I quickly made my way downstairs to the kitchen and began brewing coffee. It had just finished percolating when Alice bounced through the back door with Jasper following.

"Hi Bella," Alice said in her tinkling melodic voice. With her short black hair sticking up in spikes all over her head the resemblance to Edward was astounding. Though, she'd likely rip my head off if I mentioned it aloud.

Jasper tipped his black stetson cowboy hat toward me as he stepped in, closing the door behind him.

Alice began relaying the complete breakdown of her day, as Jasper slipped off to find Edward shaking his head and smiling. It was difficult to focus on anything but Alice with her bouncing up and down and talking non stop. I laughed a little to myself, wondering if she talked in her sleep. Still, she was just the distraction I needed and I found myself absorbed in her tales. My worries forgotten for the time being.

Before long the men came in, complaining of hunger. Alice and I did what any good wife does-order pizza.

We all ate and laughed together at the kitchen table. When everyone had their fill, we cleared the dishes and played a few games of Hearts.

Soon, my thoughts became preoccupied with how nice it was to have fun with friends. The feeling that I was missing something struck again. I excused myself, stepping out onto the porch to clear my thoughts. I was not alone however, Jasper had followed me out, with the excuse of smoking a cigar.

"You know, you can smoke in the house, Jazz. Edward does."

He smiled slightly, lighting his cigar, "I do know that, but I figured you could tell me what's bothering you and this seemed like a good time and place to do that".

I had said nothing all evening and I marveled at his intuition, "How did you know," I asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied simply, "I can feel it".

I soon found myself spilling the same details I had given earlier to Edward. I was, at first, apprehensive but Jasper had a calming effect that made him easy to talk to. Jasper listened thoughtfully without interrupting. When I finished, Jazz appeared to be pondering my words and for a long time didn't speak. I was beginning to feel self conscious and regret my outpouring when he finally spoke, "tell me about your Gran's dreams, Bella".

I sat down hard in the porch swing as the acute pain ripped through my body. "How did you know about my Gran?"

"You must have mentioned her before, it seems vital now that you consider her dreams,

I gulped loudly, my eyes filling with tears and spilling over. The loss of Gran fresh in my mind and heart. "Gran and I would have tea in the afternoons. She would tell me about her dreams. Strange dreams. She would sometimes laugh but sometimes weep because of them. She was always confused and forgetting things, her mind frantically trying to decipher. I couldn't help her. I didn't know how. I was so scared."

Jasper snubbed out his cigar and turned to me, "you have forgotten many things as well, Bella," he spoke ominously. "It is time now to remember".

Before I could ask what he had meant, Alice came noisily out the door and announced she was ready to go home. She claimed she was tired but was visibly still vibrating with energy. She placed her hand on Jasper's elbow leading him off the porch.

Without looking back, she called over her shoulder, "Bella, that new patient you were worried about was in touch, she wants to meet in your office to discuss some things."

"Come on Jazz," she said, now pulling him along, "let's go home and do dirty things before you have to go back to the studio."

I couldn't help laughing as I watched them go. They seemed to float as they moved across the lawn together. I stood from the swing and watched until I could see them no longer and then turned to the house to find Edward.

I found him in the kitchen gathering the trash. Taking a cue from Alice, I took him by the elbow and wordlessly led him up to our bedroom. I closed the door behind us, blocking out the world. "I need you Edward. Now." I stood before him and slowly undressed. He picked me up and carried me to our bed and then removed his own clothing as I watched. He climbed into the bed and with soft caresses and gentle touches we made love, tenderly.

His body stretched out over mine, our fingers interwoven above my head. The love we made was intense and passionate. His name a whispered prayer from my lips as I exploded around him. With his forehead touching my own and our eyes locked, Edward repeated his love for me over and over until finally reaching his own release.

We lay side by side together in the dark catching our breath and when I turned onto my side, he turned with me, holding me again in his arms. Just before drifting off, he sleepily whispered into my ear, "Bella, I phoned a doctor for you to speak with, the paper is in your purse". I was both excited and terrified at the prospect.

Soon, his breathing became deep and even. I turned toward him wanting to watch as he slept peacefully. There was no way I was risking sleep. I knew it was irrational but I couldn't help the feeling that if I went to sleep, he may become just another hazy memory. Terrified to forget, I studied his chiseled jawline, his long eyelashes and the flush on his cheeks, committing each to memory. I counted each exhale of his breath, his name spoken reverently, the way God intended.

96 Edward...97 Edward...98 Edward...

During the deepest part of the night, the phone rang shrilly. Edward barely stirred so I reached over him, taking it off the hook and putting it to my ear. "Hello?"

Hysterical crying on the other end of the line set my heart to racing. I heard the phone transferring hands then a male voice was speaking, "My name is Officer Newton. Mrs. Whitlock is understandably too upset to talk and wishes me to inform you that her husband, Jasper, was in a car accident tonight."

I sucked in a breath, waiting.

"I'm sorry," he spoke in the monotone of a man who had made this call too many times.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" My voice shook matching the trembling that suddenly over took over my body. I had a feeling I knew what he was sorry for.

"Mr. Whitlock was pronounced dead at the scene."


	6. Chapter 6

_"Mr. Whitlock was pronounced dead at the scene." _

Everything happened in slow motion as if a dream. I heard the officer on the other end of the phone say the devastating words just before I dropped the receiver. Shrill screams filled the air and after a few moments, I realized they were my own.

Edward sat up quickly, blinking the sleepiness from his eyes as he scanned the room for intruders or fire. When none were found, he turned to me and gathered my limp form into his arms, shushing and rocking me slowly. Edward spotted the phone on the bed between us and frantically looked back and forth from me to the annoying beeping noise, his mind trying to figure out what could have possibly happened but unable to. Eventually, he pleaded, "Who was on the phone? For the love of God, Bella, what the hell happened?"

I would have rather broken my own arm than to have to tell him the fate of his best friend but I knew there was no way to avoid the conversation. Wiping my eyes and sniffling loudly, I finally found my voice, "Jas...Jasper...was in an accident. He...he's...he's dead," I finished as the sobs racked through my body again.

Edward was shaking his head in adamant denial repeating, "no, no, no" over and over again. He hugged me tighter to him and I buried my face in his the crook of his neck. Pain ripped through my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs. I could already feel the void death leaves behind after it has taken a loved one.

Alice was all alone next door and my heart ached for the grief she must be experiencing. I knew all too well the expectations that would fall on her shoulders over the next few days. It would be a difficult experience for everyone involved and I silently psyched myself up for what lay ahead. Soon, the sunshine began to filter through the window as the tragedy of circumstances sunk through our minds and into our souls. We rose from the bed, leaving it unmade and prepared to go provide whatever comfort and assistance we could to Alice.

Alice had foregone all the traditional arrangements and opted for a small graveside service. Apparently, my own situation had not improved as I failed to remember any of the details or how I had gone from answering the phone, to standing next to a silver casket in a cemetery, surrounded by weeping people I didn't recognize. Yet, here I am, in my black dress pants and white button down shirt standing between Edward and Alice, clutching my purse tightly in both hands while the snow falls lazily around us.

I suppose the air was cold but I did not feel the biting sting of the snow or the whip of the wind. I felt nothing. My body was void; barren of all sensation. Everything my eyes touched took on a color of pale grey. I heard nothing but a dull ringing in my ears that I was desperately trying to ignore. I stood rigid, legs locked at the knees, my mouth set in a grim line as the war within me raged. 

Part of me stood at the service and heard passages the pastor was reading while another other part of me questioned humanity and religion. Sometimes, the alternate memories would flood me and I felt an unexplainable pull toward another life, a life I was terrified of.

Whose memories were they? Where were they coming from? More than that, why was this happening to me?

Then, I remembered where I was and immediately felt guilty. I glanced around me. Edward stood to my left, his hands clasped together in front of him. His knuckles were white from gripping so tightly. A single tear fell from his cheek as he stood robotically in his navy suit and tie.

Edward had not said a word. He did everything that was asked of him without question or complaint. The vein in his forehead that protruded whenever he was worried was a permanent fixture now. I didn't know how to help him in this troubled time, I was so wrapped up in my own downward spiral.

Alice, to my right, had on a black pants suit with a matching blazer. She stared straight ahead, nodding at something the pastor said every now and then. Her tears flooded over her cheeks, smearing the only make up she had attempted this morning. The black mascara left streaks on her small face but she didn't move to wipe them away.

I didn't know anyone else. I could barely see them. They were just nameless, faceless entities in black. Sure they carried their obligatory white handkerchiefs and dabbed at their eyes but they weren't family. They would go back to their normal lives tomorrow with nothing having changed for them.

I turned to look at Alice again. She's so brave. Death is easy. Living is harder. She would have to bear people looking at her with pity shining in their eyes. The unpleasant "so how are you doing" from even casual acquaintances. Alice is the one who has to go back to work, and go to the grocery store, and put gas in the car. All of these mundane things, but Jasper wasn't going to be there. Jasper was never going to come from work or take out the trash or cut the lawn. Jasper was never going to do anything ever again.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27," the pastor read and I inwardly snorted.

Why does God allow this? If he is so compassionate, why does tragedy exist? Why must the ones we love be ripped from us when we still need them? It seemed so unfair to me. Why now?

I saw it then. This same scenario, but I was in the spotlight. Standing by Gran's open grave in much the same way I stood now, but I was surrounded by different nameless, faceless people. The breath rushed out of me and my head felt dizzy.

"When would be the right time for tragedy, Bella?" Gran asked as if she were standing right beside me.

I remembered something she had told me during one of our tea talks. "Bella, don't question God. We are all a part of a plan. Who are we but lowly creatures? What right have we to ask God of anything? He doesn't have to explain any of his plans and it will do to remember that sometimes it's not God's doing. Sometimes we mess up our own lives. God gives us freewill to do just that."

My attention was drawn back to the pastor as he shifted his balance from one foot to the other and cleared his throat before beginning his reading again, "be still, and know that I am God, Psalm 46:10," I sighed, knowing it was true but not feeling a damn bit better for acknowledging it. 

What had Jasper or Alice done to deserve this? Nothing. Surely, this must be punishment for some karmic mishap. As easy as that might be to believe, even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't so. They had done nothing to deserve this. Maybe it was better to hide away and never give your heart to anyone, then you could never have it broken. What was the point of loving hard and always trying your best if fate could just snatch away everything on a whim?

Suddenly I saw a room, bare and desolate with a single bed. "Does anyone really ever merit something like this?" Gran's whispered through the gloom.

I shook my head fiercely to dispel the images. The pastor was looking at me patiently. When he saw he had my attention, he began again, "Jesus replied, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand, John 13:7"  
_  
_I didn't want to understand. Jasper was a good man. A good husband. He never hurt anyone or said mean things. He didn't cheat or steal. He loved everyone around him and we all loved him. Alice's entire life revolved around him.

Would it not be better to never have loved at all? Then you would never feel the pain of loss. Seems you could save yourself a great deal of heartache this way. Maybe if no one knew who you were, if nobody knew your name, you could walk through existence invisible, never knowing life's tragic misery.  
_  
_I rocked back on my feet and clutched at my chest as the next vision filled my mind more powerfully than the others thus far. Memories of my Gran running rapidly backward through my mind, erasing. Would I give them back? Could I? Was it better to have loved and lost? Was it possible to avoid all conflict by hiding?

It was as if every question had its own voice, each one becoming louder than the last, wanting to be heard over the rest. My head ached and I struggled to keep from pulling at my hair. Instead, I bit down roughly on my bottom lip, effectively silencing the haunting voices...all the ghosts but one. "Sometimes bad things happen to good people for no reason at all," Gran whispered. 

"Proverbs 10:12 Hatred stirs up dissension, but love covers all wrong," the pastor looked pointedly at me. I dropped my eyes from the weight of his scrutiny. Obviously, I had been making a spectacle of myself but I chanced a look around, no one else had seemed to notice. I focused on keeping my body as still as possible but I was unable to silence my thoughts.

Jasper was young and healthy. He had not lived a full life. He had not had time to live up to his full potential. He had always been busy helping others with their careers and setting his own plans aside for another time. Now that time would never come. I wonder, had he known, would he have been more selfish? Would he have chosen to further his own desires and set the people aside instead?

Another memory surfaced. This one of a poster, a large glossy photo of Edward, on the door of an empty closet. "It doesn't matter how young or healthy you are if your mind is not strong," Gran had told me, her words echoing through my mind.

"Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28" The pastor finished his sermon of passages and stepped back as the workers of the graveyard came forward to lower the casket into the ground.

Suddenly, I couldn't take anymore. I couldn't stand there and watch as the others threw white roses into the black hole after the coffin. I couldn't bear to hear them weeping. I couldn't handle the voices or the visions any longer.

I turned and ran, not stopping until I reached the black limo parked on the side of the road. I quickly opened the door and slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind me. After a few moments, I was able to steady my breathing and had pull myself back together, even if I couldn't silence the voices or prohibit the visions.

I felt somewhat better by the time Alice and Edward returned and slid into the seat next to me. Edward slid his arm around my shoulders, lightly running his thumb over the back of my neck, as he slouched down in the seat. Alice held the memorial leaflet with Jasper's picture on the front in her trembling hands. None of us said a word on the way back to Alice's house but the silence spoke volumes.

I knew I shouldn't, especially in light of Gran's words and the pastor's sermon, but I felt bitter. Anger enveloped me, pushing aside the grief. How could this be worth the few years they had spent together. Just a short amount of time of happiness for a lifetime of anguish.

I was still harboring these thoughts as the nameless, faceless crowd filed by me in Alice's dining room filling plates and cups. It didn't seem right to me to share in this decadent food under the circumstances. When I was sure everyone had what they needed, I quietly left the dining room. I walked straight into the kitchen. I fixed myself a bowl of cornflakes and sat at the island bar in the center of the room to eat. I was half finished with my cereal when Alice came to request my presence in the living room.

"I have some things I'd like to say before everyone returns to their own homes," she said. I stood and placed my half eaten bowl of cereal into the sink.

While my back was still turned, Alice whispered, "don't forget about that new patient". I shook my head slightly, amazed at how Alice always put others before herself, even in the midst of her own personal tragedy. I mulled over her compassion as I followed behind her and found a vacant seat in the back corner of the room.

Alice stood in the center of her guests and waited until she had everyone's attention.

"I want to thank you all for coming here today." She looked around the room at the nameless faces with a forced smile pulling at her lips. "I sincerely appreciate all of the condolences and food that was made and shared. Jasper would have been so pleased to see all of us together and I wish we were gathered under happier circumstances." Alice paused at the mention of his name. Tears filled her eyes but she pushed through, obviously determined to get through this.

"As many of you know, Jasper did not have a happy childhood. His parents were cruel people who only cared about themselves but Jasper didn't let them disillusion him. He never treated others the way he was treated. To do so, would have been to let them win and to Jasper that was unacceptable." She seemed to drift off into happier memories as she spoke of him. "He freely gave of his time and his heart although he wasn't always rewarded for it. He was fond of saying that the bad times help us appreciate the good ones and remembering the good times help us get through the horrible."

Alice glanced around at the other guests periodically but her eyes repeatedly returned to me as she spoke. "I will forever be grateful for the time I was granted with him. To lose him is a tragedy but to have never known him, and felt his love, would have truly been a misfortune."

Alice turned quietly and walked to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. I didn't follow, knowing she needed some time to herself. I stood and went back to the dining room and began cleaning up and putting food in the refrigerator. When I was finished, nearly everyone had left. Edward was standing against the door frame waiting, signaling that he was ready as well. 

We walked hand in hand across the lawns to our own house. When we arrived, I wanted to go straight up to our room but Edward asked for a few minutes to himself. He kissed me softly on the forehead and reminded me of my appointment with the psychiatrist before slipping from the room.

I was left alone to ponder my visions, the pastor's sermon, and Alice's words.

I felt cold, lonely, and miserable.

Just like always. 


	7. Chapter 7

I still don't own Twilight or Robert Pattinson. Damn!

Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews and emails. Thanks to my beta Krystih who is wonderful in every way. Thanks to RPfangirlDC for the awesome banner. The link is on my profile page.

This chapter should answer some questions. We only have 4 chapters left till the end.

I sat there at the kitchen table worrying about Edward, fretting over Alice, and grieving for Jasper. My thoughts continuously returning to my own sad state of affairs. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a decision to be made and that time was running out to make the choice. The pastor had seemed to be talking to me alone when he gave his eulogy about hope. What was it I was supposed to be hoping for? Alice, too, had stared at me as she spoke about forgiveness. Who was I was supposed to be forgiving? 

I didn't feel any closer to the answers but the overwhelming sense that the mystery would be solved soon was engulfing me like flames. I wanted to know what was happening to me. I wanted the vague memories to stop, so I could get better. But I was terrified of finding the truth. What if the truth was that I was crazy and needed to be locked in a padded room for the rest of my life? What if the answer was that I was on some horrible freaky reality show where someone had been playing a very sick joke on me? Only one thing was certain at this time, I knew absolutely nothing.

Everywhere I looked, things seemed blurry around the edges. People seemed so vague and I was sick of feeling so selfishly wrapped up in myself. As I sat there, I realized that I could no longer remember anything but the deaths of my family members. Grief and despair, my only emotions. I couldn't recall meeting my husband or how long we had been married. I didn't remember buying this house or picking out any of the furnishings. I couldn't remember how old I am or what the date was. My body felt weightless, as if I could float to the ceiling and out the windows into the sky if I just thought about it hard enough.

Time had ceased when Edward's voice called from upstairs, beckoning me to join him. I stood from the chair and pushed it under the table. Slowly, I climbed the stairs one at a time toward him. Always moving toward him. Is that what fate is or is it a conscious decision? 

8 Edward...9 Edward...10 Edward...

I walked to the bedroom door and pushed it open. Out of the darkened hallway, I stepped into the room, revealing the space Edward had filled with candlelight. He stood in the center of the room in only his grey boxer briefs with his arm outstretched toward me. My feet moved to him of their own accord. Like a magnet is attracted to iron. When I was close enough I place my hand in his and he pulled me into his embrace. Like iron, he was hard and smooth.

"I ran us a bath love," he whispered against my ear as he held me tightly. 

"Sounds lovely," I whispered back, not wanting to break the comforting ambiance he had created for us.

He took my hand in his again and led the way to the bathroom, pulling me behind him. When we crossed the threshold I saw that he had filled this room with candlelight as well. The room smelled of the lavender and vanilla bubble bath that had always been my favorite. I could see the bubbles and steam rising from the claw foot tub. 

Still using a hushed tone of voice, Edward turned toward me, "I want to forget everything and just be us for a little while".

"Of course," I responded, smiling, "I want exactly the same thing". So, I pushed aside all of my doubts, and fears, and questions, and accepted his help into the heavenly heated water.

He sat behind me as I reclined against him, allowing the heat from his body as well as the water to soothe me. Edward used his hands to caress light circles up and down my arms and across my neck and shoulders. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so relaxed and carefree.

Too soon, the water had grown tepid and I permitted Edward to wrap me in one of the over sized green towels he grabbed from the wall rack. He thoroughly dried my body and then tenderly combed the tangles from my hair. When he was finished, he lifted me into his arms, carrying me back to the bed. Placing me in the middle, he climbed in beside me. We lay on our sides facing each other.

Small, light touches and teasingly, chaste kisses gave way to overheated arousal. Edward rolled over me, pushing his body against mine and entering me in one fluid motion. He stilled momentarily as we both adjusted to the feel. He pulled back slightly then pressed forward again, circling his hips. His lips met mine languidly as I moaned into his mouth. The feel of his body was exquisite, perfectly made for me. And in that moment, I made up my mind that I would do anything to hold on to this. I was going to see that doctor and I was going to do whatever it took to get better. 

For him.

For us. 

For myself.

I unlocked the door to my office and let myself in. Alice, of course, was not coming in today but I had big plans. Somehow, Edward, while booking my doctor's appointment, and Alice, making the appointment for my patient, had double booked me. I only had two appointments today but they were at exactly the same time.

I rummaged through my purse and found the two slips of paper. One, for a new patient with my name as the doctor and the other with my name as the patient. Strangely, the patients name was missing from the doctoral form and the doctor's name was missing from the patient form. I didn't have time to dwell on these facts however, there was much to prepare.

I sat my pen and yellow legal pad on the desk and cleared off the files I would not need. I fixed myself some coffee with cream and sugar. Then, found the mini recorder, inserting a new tape. As I worked, I mentally made a check list of all the things I wanted to discuss with the psychiatrist.

The slip of paper Edward had placed in my purse said that the doctor would meet me here. I didn't worry too much what would happen when my doctor and my patient both arrived at the same time. I felt sure it would all work out. In fact, it was the least of my concerns this morning. I just wanted to get through this day and hopefully find some answers to my questions.

With everything accomplished that needed to be, I sat at my desk and closed my eyes. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth trying to ready myself for the events of the day. When a sharp knock sounded at the door, my body jerked in surprise. What the hell was wrong with me? I was expecting people. I shook my head at myself and stood to open the door. 

I turned the knob and a young girl in black dress pants and a white button down shirt floated into the room. She immediately went to the brown leather chair in front of my desk and sat. Her long brown hair was messy and fell like a curtain, obscuring her face from my vision. She folded her hands in her lap and didn't speak.

I sighed heavily, this was not going to be easy. I went back to my chair and picked up the notepad and pen. I remembered then that the doctor should be arriving soon so I felt it only fair to warn the girl.

"I am expecting another appointment to arrive shortly. I apologize but we may have to shorten our session today."

The girl did not respond. She sat with her back straight but her shoulders slumped, staring into her lap. She was clearly not going to be forthcoming. I searched my mind for any of my training that could be useful in this situation but was unable to conjure anything helpful.

I started with the question that seemed most important given the present circumstances. "What do you hope to gain from our time together?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders without looking up. After a moment she quietly spoke, "life". Her answer, little more than a whisper, caused me to wonder if I had heard her correctly. 

"Life? You hope to gain a life?" I asked skeptically.

The girl nodded her acquiescence, her hair flowing wildly around her face as her head bobbed up and down.

Her answer puzzled me. "H-how can I help you to achieve this _life_ you seek? What is it that you want from me?" 

The girl took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. It was the most noise she had made since she had stepped foot into my office. She nervously twisted her fingers together in her lap, a habit I had also picked up as of late. I sympathized with the girl, clearly she was distraught.

Finally, she began to speak and I listened with rapt attention.

"There is a choice to be made. One we must all make at some point in our lives," she said pointedly, her hands becoming animated.

"To live or to die. I am not speaking of suicide. There are much worse things than being dead," her words dripped sarcastically from fell from her mouth.

"It is possible to be very much alive and still bury ourselves deep. To let hurtful words that others speak sink into our souls and control our actions. To let the selfish acts of the ones closest to us penetrate our minds and steal our happiness," her head swinging from side to side emphatically to illustrate the sheer audacity of allowing such behavior.

To allow unexplainable tragedy and circumstance to breed fear in our hearts. To live a life of dread and loneliness, a life without hope, is true death." with such gravity in her speech it took my breath away.

I sat staring at her, my mouth agape, as I listened to her wise words. She cleared her throat and continued, "No one will rescue you from yourself. It's your choice. Only you have the strength inside to help yourself. No matter what fate may throw at you throughout the course of your daily travels, remember, love is always worth it."

She seemed to be directing her statements pointedly at me and it caused me to be extremely unsure of how to respond. "I-I should check to see if my other appointment has arrived." I told her, rising from my chair.

"There is no need of that, Bella. No one else is coming."

"W-what?" I stammered.

"It is time for you to choose for the both of us."

I fell back in my seat, my knees buckling beneath me. My head filling with memories. Memories of rejection at the hands of those who were supposed to love me the most. Memories of a girl witnessing the suicide of her parents. The untimely and distressing death of her grandmother just six short months later. Memories of being lost; without a purpose. 

My head began to spin with visions. A girl in a single bed, alone and afraid, crying nightly. Scared to give away any piece of herself. Forgotten. Emotions of an unbearable existence with nowhere to go and no one to rely on.

Death.

Sights of a wedding, a happy home. The love of two soul mates. Friends and family. Good times and bad.

Life.

I shook my head and looked again at the girl in front of me and realized it was not just my head that was spinning. The entire room had began to blur around the edges of my sight. The walls and furniture began to fall away as she asked, "Which will you choose? Heaven or Hell?"

She stretched her arms wide from her body. On one side of her outstretched hand, I saw the empty bedroom with no clothes in the closet and no slips of paper with my name written on them to be found. No personal effects of any kind. One solitary poster hung on the wall of a beautiful man with an amazing smile and forest green eyes. A man that I would never know; I would never hold.

Hell.

On the other side from where she pointed, I saw a gorgeous white house with blue shutters and red roses in full bloom, growing up the trellis of a wrap around porch. A man waited for me there, the man from the poster, my Edward.

Heaven.

"I-I-I don't understand," I implored of the girl.

"It's time to choose Bella," she remarked again, "heaven or hell? How will you live our life?"

"Our life?" I beseeched of her.

The girl lifted her head gradually and looked at me with my own eyes. The shock had me clutching at my rapidly beating heart. Suddenly, I remembered everything. As I sat looking at my own self across from me I knew the choice I had to make and the ramifications of my decision. There was still time. I could still fix it all. 


	8. Chapter 8

I checked my bank statement and no, I don't own Twilight. I checked my bed and you guessed it, no Edward. Damn!

Thanks to my beta Krystih! I am forever in your debt,

_Suddenly, I remembered everything. As I sat looking at my own self sitting across from me I knew the choice I had to make and the ramifications of my decision. There was still time. I could still fix it all. _  
_  
_I woke in the state home that I had been brought to after my Gran's funeral. I glanced around at the bare white walls. A half eaten bowl of cornflakes sat on a wooden desk across the room. A woman in black leather Mary Jane heels had brought the cereal to me at bedtime. She had said she was a psychiatrist and sat at the matching desk chair chatting to me about choices. 

I had ignored her as best I could until her voice began to grate on my nerves. I saw her presence as an invasion of the solitude I wanted, the numbness that I needed. I scooted with my back to the wall, hugging my knees to my chest, giving her hateful, sideways glances. She had to keep glancing at her at her notes to read my name because she couldn't remember it. Even though I had just been in her care in this same hospital six months ago after my parents suicides. Yet, she thought she knew what was best for me.

This morning though, after the dream, I had learned my lesson. I was wrong. Dr. Zafrina did know what was best for me. Even if she wasn't the best person to help me, she could direct me to someone that could be of help. She could aid me in moving past this depression. Support me in adjusting to the deaths of my family. Assist me in becoming a happy adult with a good job, and husband, and a white house with blue shutters, and red roses, instead of an embittered spinster recluse. 

I jumped out of the single bed with the itchy, clinically white sheets, with a purpose. I knew just what to do. I slid out of the long white t-shirt they had brought me to sleep in until my things could be retrieved and quickly dressed back into the black dress pants and white button down top I had worn to Gran's funeral.

I walked to the desk and opened the middle drawer taking out the pen and paper I had found there yesterday and walked back to the bed to begin making a list. My Gran had spoken often of her dreams, claiming they had psychic powers and always pleading with me to pay special attention to my own. I intended to do just that. Before I could start, a nurse entered the room.

"Oh good, you're awake. It would seem the sleeping pills I brought you at bedtime did the trick, though you slept fitfully through the night, at least you slept," she spoke rapidly as she flitted about the room straightening the bed with military precision.

"I checked on you many times Miss and you were moaning in your dreams. I turned the light on so you wouldn't be frightened if you awoke. Also, I turned off the clock this morning, you were sleeping so soundly through the alarm, I assumed you could use the extra rest," she stopped and looked at me then and I could see the genuine kindness and concern in her eyes.

"Are you feeling better in the light of morning?" She asked as she retrieved the bowl and spoon from the desk.

"Yes Ma'am, thank you," I said smiling warmly at her, "Will you please inform Dr. Zafrina I would like to speak with her as soon as possible? I need to apologize for my rudeness yesterday."

"Of course Miss, she will be so pleased," the pretty nurse with long red hair returned my smile and left the room just as quickly as she had entered.

__I turned back to the pen and paper before me. I felt I should write every possible symbolism down to prepare myself for several possible outcomes. I understood that having a dream doesn't make you psychic but some unknown force was definitely at work here. To preserve every aspect on paper before it slipped away from me, I began my list with possible explanations next to each item.

_Counting - Possibly a symbol of timing running out or the time to move toward something? Both?_

Library - Gateway to learning the information I need or possible career choice?  


_Bare Room - A possible future outcome or a recollection of where I am now?_

_Big house - A symbol of Gran's house- comfort, safety, home - a shelter I should seek?_

Psychiatrist - The professional path I should choose or a person I should seek out for help?

_Edward - A sign of the need to be loved or a real man?_

_Alice - Real or maybe a figment of inner strength?_

_Jasper's death - Indicative of Gran's death or my subconscious? Real?  
_  
As I contemplated the significance of each carefully, I knew for certain that I could not possibly be one hundred percent positive of the symbolisms. The only thing I understood for sure was that I needed guidance. I couldn't very well tell anyone that I actually believed that I had dreamed of future, but I knew I needed help to move past this grief and on to a path of a healthy life. I would not sit idly by and become that lonely girl with no friends, family, or hope.

__I know other teens who are graduating high school, like me, they have exciting and wild dreams of their futures. All sorts of crazy plans for the minute they escape their parents homes. All I want is a boring, mundane, stable life. I look forward to doing the same things everyday. Being able to keep friends for an extended amount of time. I also realize, after my dream, I want some sort of excitement as well. Some small surprise from time to time that will make life interesting. I know, now, that I want friends and family to spice up my life.

In order to do that, I am going to have to learn to accept the fate of my childhood. More, I am going to need to learn to deal with the pity in people's eyes when I, inevitably, tell them about my past. I learned quickly, after my parents deaths, that there are different groups of people. Some who cannot make eye contact or stand to spend any time with me after they know the truth. Maybe they are scared my bad luck will rub off on them. Maybe they just don't know what to say to me anymore. Then, there are people who feel so sorry for me that they begin to treat me like a child who needs help with everything and can't be left alone. In some ways, these people are worse with their condescending tones and overly ambitions motives.

Knowing that none of the things that have happened to me is my fault and actually feeling that I am not to blame are two very different things. I'm not sure that I ever felt love at the hands of my parents and my self-esteem has suffered. I was just beginning to relax in Gran's company and allow her love to fill the void inside of me when she was taken. I know now that I must learn to love myself above all before I can expect someone else to love me as well.

It would be simple to just ignore everyone and retreat inside of myself to the numbness; so easy to slip into the role of the sad, lonely girl in my dream. I am a sad and lonely girl. At this time in my life I have no friends or family. No one to know my name. All I have is my past and hope for a future.

It will not be so easy to rip off all the band-aids and expose myself but I know for sure that if anyone asks my name I am going to speak up and give it to them. Maybe good things will happen.

Another possible aspect of my dream came to me then. Maybe the sad, lonely girl from my dream is the me that I am now. This depressed girl with no one who knows her. Someone who wants a better life but is unsure how to get it. Maybe, just maybe, with help, I can move on from this, to that happy career woman in the pretty white house. Maybe there _is_ an Edward Cullen in the world for me.

I took a last look around at the same room as in my dream. The bare walls and single bed. The wooden desk and matching chair. I looked toward the closet where the door stood open. It was vacant of any clothing just as the room itself was void of any personal effects. I vow that I am leaving this life behind and I will have a home someday, with art work on the walls and clothes in the closet and ten year old bills in the desk drawers. A real home filled with love. 

I turned my back on it all then, and refusing to look back, stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind me. I needed to consult with Dr. Zafrina. I also need a phone book and an envelope. Just in case. 


	9. Chapter 9

Many thanks to my beta Krystih, whom I love unconditionally.

According to my bank statements, I still do not own Twilight. According to my empty bedroom, I still don't own Edward because if I did he would definitely be tethered there.

I stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door to the bare room closed behind me. I walked over to the nurse's station and spoke with the pretty red haired nurse from earlier. 

"Would it be possible to speak with Dr. Zafrina now?" I asked hesitantly.

"Of course, Miss," she spoke as she shuffled papers around the desk without glancing at me. "Come with me and I'll show where the doctor's office is located," she said, stepping from behind the desk and motioning for me to follow her.

I walked behind her, down the long hallway, to the last door on the left. She knocked loudly twice and then turned to me, squeezing my shoulder, "go ahead in, Miss," and then she was hurrying back to her desk.

I felt butterflies of nervousness in my tummy as I turned the knob and pushed the door open, mentally psyching myself up as I entered the room. My mouth hung agape as I noticed the rich red carpeting on the floor and the wood paneling on the walls. This was the same office as in my dream, complete with over-sized desk and leather chairs.

Pulling myself together, I cleared my throat and the doctor looked up from the yellow legal tablet on which she had been writing and pointed at the chair across from her, indicating I should sit.

My shoes sunk into the plush carpeting as I walked to the big leather chair. I felt like the frightened child that still hides inside of me, as I sat down under her scrutiny. I stared at my hands as they fidgeted in my lap. 

"I-I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night and..." I stammered.

She interrupted me before I could finish with a wave of her hand. I caught the movement from the corner of my sight and jerked my head up to meet her eyes.

"There is no need to apologize. I understand that you had just arrived from your Grandmother's funeral and that you lost your parents... six months ago," she said, reading over the notes in my file that she held.

I nodded my assent, my voice failing me for the moment.

"It is human nature to bottle our feelings up inside of us. Most people think that emotions make us weak," she explained.

I nodded again, taking time to notice the woman before me; I had misjudged her.

She was a tall, broad woman with perfect skin, the color of coffee. Her black eyes boar into my own, showing compassion and understanding. I needed to trust her in order for this to work and, searching her face, I knew that I could.

"You will have to lower your defenses and learn to trust again after this, in order to lead a happy and fulfilling life. It won't be easy," she eyed me speculatively, sizing me up to see if I can really handle what she is suggesting.

I am fully aware of the facts that she has presented me. I am also conscious of the fact that this may be more difficult for me because I am a naturally shy and withdrawn person. I had always been more of the suffer in silence type.

I have already resigned myself to doing whatever is necessary to be healthy, and not the least bit like my parents. I am convinced that while the last eighteen years of life have been out of my control, and I can't do anything to change other people's decisions, I will remain in command of the next eighteen, and more. 

While therapy may take a large portion of my time from here on out, I know that these decisions are a step in the right direction. I also realize that just having made up my mind to do something about my life is already a change for the better. I can feel it inside of me. I pondered how mysterious it is that the biggest changes happen inside of us, where no one else can see them.

I shake my head, freeing my thoughts from their musings and look up into her eyes again, "I want to be whole again," I told her wholeheartedly. 

She smiled warmly at me then, revealing a perfect row of white, even teeth, "You are a very strong and brave girl, Isabella. I don't envy you what you have suffered thus far, but I look forward to guiding you through this transition in your life and seeing you come out mended in spite of it".

We spoke of many things over the next several hours such as my plans for my future. She was very supportive of my ideas to take the money that Gran had left me and use it for college. She smiled dotingly when I said I'd like to study in psychology.

She asked how I felt about medication and I refused for the time being, even the sleeping pills she offered. I wanted to try this on my own. I recognized that I may need medication in the future weeks or months, and I promised her that if I felt I was having difficulty that I would reach out for help.

We spoke of my living arrangements. The lawyer would read the will later in the day but I felt confident that Gran had left the house to me. Since I was of legal age, if I felt I could handle living alone she encouraged me to stay in the house while I began my college years. She felt it may be of comfort to me and I concurred.

She said she could make some recommendations of good doctors I could see that were not far from the school campus and I agreed readily.

I told her my whole life story. My childhood, my parents, the events leading up to and including their deaths. We talked of my feelings on these issues and by the time I was finished, I felt unburdened. I couldn't remember why I had been so intent on keeping all of this negativity inside of me.

The only thing I did not tell her about was my strange dreams from last night. That was all mine. I felt somewhat proud, that in a weird way, I had rescued myself, from myself. I couldn't help but wonder again if my dream had truly been a foretelling of my future and reminded myself to ask someone for a phone book before I left the hospital. 

I left her office with my heart feeling a bit lighter. I stopped by the nurse's station again and politely asked for an envelope and a phone book. Back in my tiny room, I flipped through the white pages and found what I had been looking for. Amazing, I marveled. I jotted down a quick note before I over thought it and slipped the stationary into the envelope, sealing it closed.

Soon, a nurse came to advise me that a car was waiting to take me to the lawyers office. 

Walking through the halls, I didn't feel as self conscious as I did on the way in last night. Coming out of my selfish stupor had made me realize that everyone has their crosses to carry and that maybe when all is said and done, no one's is any greater than any one else's.

The revelation astounded me. I wasn't alone, like I had previously been convinced. Everyone goes through difficult times. Who was I to judge whether my experiences were more wretched than someone else's? My steps slowed as I pondered this discovery. The nurse escorting me out, appeared frightened by my change in demeanor. After some assuring, she walked along side of me to the awaiting car.

I slipped into the backseat of the sleek black car while the nurse spoke with the driver. He introduced himself as Garrett as he pulled away from the curb and into traffic. We spoke briefly about the weather and other trivial things on the short drive. Soon, we were pulling up to the law offices of Demetri and Newton.

Once inside the large glass doors, I spoke with a receptionist named Jessica who had pink heels and huge fake boobs. She was chewing gum so loud it made me a little sick and I was glad when she ushered me in to Michael Newton's office. 

Mr. Newton was a short, balding man whose eyes lingered a bit long on the receptionist. After Jessica was gone, having closed the door behind her, he shook my hand, telling me to sit and make myself comfortable.

He thankfully got right to the point and read Gran's will, which was very short, leaving everything to me. There wasn't much money but it would be enough to get me enrolled in school and keep the house afloat until I could get a job.

He saw me to the door after our meeting and shook my hand again, wishing me good luck. I was going to need all the luck I could get. 

A few weeks later. 

I had been very busy. Well, busy at keeping myself busy. I had cleaned some things out of the house and moved them to the attic. I had sorted through tons of paperwork. I had scrubbed floors and painted walls a bright, cheerful yellow that made me smile every time I looked at it. The house looked great and I was happy with the progress.

When I wasn't busy with the house, I was busy registering for classes and acquainting myself with the campus. I had found a nice coffee shop and found the location of all of my classes for the upcoming semester.

I also spent two hours a week in therapy with a psychiatrist Dr. Zafrina had put me in contact with. She said I could call her Irina and she was very patient with me for the most part. She was also always on my case, pushing me. I kind of loved her for it. She was like the mom I had always wanted and never had.

_"Have you been eating, Isabella?" she asked, like she always did at the beginning of our meetings, the concern evident in her voice.__  
_

_I smiled indulgently, "Yes, ma'am."_

_"I am pleased with your progress and your forthcoming attitude. You seem to be doing very well. Do you feel that you are accomplishing what you__set out to thus far?"_  
_  
__I took my time thinking over her question, "Yes, I do. I am finding my way. I feel more confident. It is a relief__ for me to take care of myself__ and not to depend on others who I worry may fail me," I told her._

_"I start school on Monday, and my new job. I am excited to begin my journey. I am looking forward to meeting new people and pushing my limits a little."_

___Irina clapped her hands loudly, "This is just what I wanted to hear. You are doing great Isabella. I am so proud of you." _

_I smiled again, blushing a little at her outburst. She always knew the right thing to say to motivate me.__  
_  
After several meetings with advisors and administrators, I had got the part time job at the campus library that would help me pay some bills. Today was my first day and I was so nervous. The library was the exact same one from my dream several weeks prior. I had been in here many times before today but it still made me jittery. The places in my dream were real places and I couldn't help but hope that the people were real as well.

I stepped in through the side entrance of the building to begin my shift. I knew where pretty much everything was, as I had been given a tour and a detailed description of responsibilities just yesterday. I made my way around the large room turning on lights and computers. At nine a.m. I unlocked the front doors and waited behind the desk for any students arriving who may need help.

The morning went by quickly and soon it was lunch time. I ate lunch at Dojo's down the street. Ordering the chicken cutlet with Japanese BBQ sauce, home fries and a side of green salad. I practically skipped back to the library. I was feeling so good about my progress these last weeks. Just as I stepped into the building I collided with someone and papers flew through the air. 

I landed on my bottom and looked down at the papers around me on the floor. Prying my eyes from them, I gasped as I gazed slowly at the man who stood before me.

-

Next chapter will be EPOV, he can't wait to tell his story. 


	10. Chapter 10

**EPOV**

My name is Edward Cullen. Soon everyone will know my name and no one will ever forget it. I am going to make damn sure of it. 

When I was young, just seven years old, my twin sister Alice and I would play for hours in the meadow out back, behind our home. The estate was huge and there were many gardens to play in, some with swings and play things for Alice and myself to enjoy. The meadow was my favorite place to be and Alice was always content to follow. At least back then she was. 

It was in the meadow that we had been playing tag in when mother's voice called out for us. We scrambled to the back porch of the big house where she met us, explaining that there was a conference she and dad would be attending. She told us that we were to stay close to the house and mind the babysitter. 

Mrs. Cope was the widower who lived in the only other house on our dead end road. She was old and grouchy and I disliked her immensely. She believed that children were to be seen and not heard. Clearly, this plan was not on my agenda. The house was large though, being two stories tall with five bedrooms and baths, most of the time she was easy to avoid.

Mother saw the disobedient glint in my eye and scolded me, "Edward, you will do as you are told if you wish to continue playing in the meadow. If Mrs. Cope tells me that you hid from her again, you will be denied outside play for two weeks. Do I make myself clear?" 

"Yes, Mother," I was quick to say. Being cooped up in the house was the worst possible thing that could happen to a boy who had so many fantastical dreams to purge from his imagination.

She smiled indulgently then, "We won't be gone long, I promise," she said as she bent to kiss mine and then Alice's cheek.

My mother knew me well, she stayed home with us most days though she worked on her computer doing accounting work for my father. He was a well renowned doctor and the entire country wanted his input at various conferences. He was rarely at home but when he was, he always took time to read us stories from the large library on the first floor of his study. Afterward, he and mother would tuck us into our beds and kiss us goodnight. This was my best childhood memory.

Mrs. Cope did not read bedtime stories and I fell asleep that night without a story or a kiss goodnight.

Upon waking the next morning, I padded down the stairs from my room to the kitchen. I was still in my zip up pajamas with the plastic footies attached and Spiderman swinging on a web across the front. I paused at the large wood door leading into the kitchen as I heard Mrs. Cope speaking to someone. _What was she still doing here?_

I pushed the door open just enough to see into the room and Mrs. Cope was sitting on of the bar stools talking on the telephone. "What am I supposed to do? I can't stay here with them and I am certainly no taking them to my house," she said into the receiver. She listened for a moment and then agreed with whoever was on the other end, hanging up the phone with a sigh.

She looked up at me then and motioned me into the room. "Edwin, right?" she asked as I stepped closer. "Edward!" I shouted angrily. _Why could she not ever remember my name?_

"Edward. Whatever. I have some bad news for you. There is no easy way to say it, so I'm just going to be blunt," she said seemingly like she was enjoying being the bearer of bad news far more than she wanted me to know. "Your parents were killed in a car accident last night on their way home," she blurted out abruptly.

I launched myself across the room when I heard the words, "No! No! You're lying! You're a liar and I hate you," I had screamed pummeling her with my tiny fists. She pushed away harshly and I landed on the floor, "Get off of me, you little brat," I stood, glaring at her and then ran from the room.  
_  
_She wasn't a liar though and soon a lady from social services came to pick us up. Alice and I were told that where we were going, there would not be room for all of our things and to pack only the bare essentials. I sneaked, and slipped my comic books into the backpack when she wasn't looking.

We were taken to a state home until more permanent foster parents could be found for us. The social worker was right about there not being any room for anything but our clothes. I was in a bare white room, lined with bunk beds, that I shared with four other boys. That first night I lay in bed clutching my comic books to my chest when one of the bigger boys came and snatched them away.

He was much stronger than I but I fought hard, "Those are mine!" I had yelled.

"And just who do you think you are?" The bully had taunted.

"I am Edward Cullen," I responded indignantly.

"Just as I thought, a nobody," he teased as he left the room with my books under his arm, snickering.

I cried then, not caring who heard me. Alice had slipped into bed with me her face wet with tears as well and we held each other through the night. I resolved that night that no matter what it took, I was going to be somebody. I was going to be famous, with name in lights and everyone in the world would know my name. Then, no one could bully me or take my things away ever again. 

Alice and I spent the next eleven years being shuffled from home to home. Most of the foster parents were not nice and all of them laughed at my dream but every time one of them slipped and called me "Edwin" it strengthened my resolve.

I would not let them make me bitter. I was going to be bigger and better than all of them. I believe that you can only feel what you feel; nothing more or less but you have complete control of your actions. My actions were to be genuinely kind to people. To treat them as I wished to be treated because it is what my mother and father would have expected of me.

On our eighteenth birthday we received a substantial inheritance from our parents. As I stood in the law offices of Demetri and Newton waiting to sign papers in Mr. Demetri's office, I saw a beautiful brunette. She was about my age with long flowing hair. The sadness in her eyes was palpable as she waited in one of the chairs.

She never looked up at me as she stood and was escorted into one of the offices. Mr. Demetri came for Alice and I then and we followed him down the hall. I knew I probably would not get the chance to see her again and this made me sad. I told myself as I settled into a chair in the large wood paneled room that if it was meant to be, I would run into her again someday.

One of the stipulations of my parents will was that we had to go to college. At first, I was pissed at still being controlled but soon I became excited by the idea. Registering for classes and strolling through the campus. 

Alice and I bought a small house not far from campus. We had spent weeks furnishing it. I had not gotten around to meeting any of the neighbors but there was a lovely white clapboard house with blue shutters next door that intrigued me. I loved the wrap around porch with red rose bushed threading themselves up through the trellis. I wanted to know who lived there but couldn't find the courage to go knock on the door and introduce myself. 

I had done some community theater while in high school and an agent, Tanya Denali, had spotted me. I met with her in her office, "Edward, I think you've got what it takes and I would like to work with you." She explained to me that I would need to have photographs taken and hire a lawyer to look over the contract she presented me with.

I called Mr. Demetri and he was willing to look over the papers so I brought the packet to his office and looked around for the beautiful brunette. I knew she would not likely be there but I couldn't help myself. Soon, I was ushered into the office where I sat for thirty minutes while Mr. Demetri sipped coffee and looked everything over.

I sat there trying to be patient, my thoughts traveled to the girl. I would have given anything to have taken the sadness from her face that day. I realized it was silly of me to think so much about a girl whom I did not even know but more silly than that was the fact that I felt like I might love her.

"This is a pretty standard contract, Edward," Mr. Demetri had said, startling me from my thoughts. 

"It is a good deal for you and my advice would be to sign," he said finally.

I felt the smile spread over my face as I stood to shake his hand. "Thank you, thank you very much," I repeated over and over in happiness and relief.

Alice had helped me to decide on a studio to have my photographs taken for a portfolio and I was pleased with the quality of work they had done. I handles the photographs carefully until I could get them placed properly into the black portfolio case Alice had gifted me with this morning.

I had a meeting with an advisor at the college to discuss my major. The meeting had gone well and my official reason for being in college was now film production. I walked over the campus grounds looking for a quiet spot to put the photographs together and as I walked my thoughts strayed again to the beautiful brunette. I hoped she was happy wherever she was.

I spotted the library up ahead and smiled to myself. It was perfect. _What was more quiet than a library? _Lost in my own thoughts, I wasn't watching where I was going when I entered through the glass double doors. Just as I stepped into the building I collided with someone and my photos flew through the air.

I bent to pick up the glossy papers, about to apologize profusely when I heard a gasp. I looked down and my beautiful brunette was sprawled on the floor before me. I couldn't believe my luck. All these weeks of daydreaming about her and now hear she was and I knocked her down and could not seem to make myself speak.

Finally, I came to my senses and reached out a hand to help her off of the floor. She held a few of the photographs in her hand and looked down at them. I said the first thing that entered my mind, "Headshot," I whispered.

"Huh?" she asked, looking at me curiously.

I cleared my throat to start again, "Um, I'm Edward. Edward Cullen. These are photographs for my agent. Um, I'm going to be famous someday," I could feel my face heating up from embarrassment. _She must think I am some kind of egomaniac._

Before I could defend my statement, she handed me the photos and smiled up at me. "I believe you," she said assuredly.

"Beautiful brunette? What's your name?" I asked, still holding her hand in mine.

__"Isabella Swan. You can call me Bella," she said demurely. 

"Gladly," I responded, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb.  
_  
_My mouth opened of it's own accord, "I love you," I blurted, spilling my secret before I could stop it.

Her entire face radiated with the smile that lit upon it. I was frightened for a moment as she pondered her words, "Edward, I am going to love you forever." 

This couldn't be happening. I believed in love at first sight but this was like something out of a dream. I couldn't deny the warmth that spread up my arm from her touch and throughout my body and I was thankful that she seemed to feel it too.

"Forever? Like Always?" I asked.

My beautiful brunette responded without hesitation, "Just like always". 


	11. Chapter 11

Jasper pulled his car along side of the road and turned off the ignition. He had come to this spot every year on this day for the last twenty years. He slid out of the seat and walked to the front of the car, resting his bottom on the hood. Pulling the slip of paper from his his inside breast pocket, he smiled to himself. 

He clearly remembered receiving the note in the mail. He had thought someone was playing a joke on him. His parents were morbid like that. He had only been eighteen years old and eager to be out from under their thumb.

He recalled not wanting to think the letter had phased him at all, so hadn't mentioned it to anyone. Something caused him to keep it though. He had carried it for years. For a while in a metal box with a lock under his bed, then after meeting Alice, he had placed it in his wallet. 

He had begun to think that he had an angel looking over him and maybe he did. Whatever the context, he was thankful.

He glanced to the road in front of him where angry tire marks could still be faintly seen. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he thought of the last twenty years he could have lost in a heartbeat.

His children would not exist if not for this white paper. Sweet, innocent moments of waking up in bed next to his wife. Making love to her before falling asleep, wrapped in her arms. Moments that most take for granted.

He had suspicions of whom the note was from. In his heart he knew. He also knew that her gift made her uncomfortable and so he had settled for tiny gestures over the years. Making himself available to her in every way possible. He would help her bring in groceries or take out the trash when her husband was away.

In his own way, he loved her. Not in the same way that he loved Alice but there was no doubt she owned a piece of his soul. When times were bad and he had difficulty reconciling why he had been saved, he would think of her and it filled him with strength.

She thought he was worth saving. He had Alice and the twins, Alec and Jane. They believed he was worth saving as well. He would remember this and dig his heels in try that little bit harder to make her effort worthwhile. 

He unfolded the paper in his hands and read it through as was his custom to commemorate another year. A celebration of his life and all he had accomplished and obtained because her.

_Jasper,_

_You don't know me and you will find this difficult to comprehend but I have reason to believe that you will marry the girl of your dreams. Her name is Alice and the two of you will be outrageously happy. After ten years of marriage, on May 13, you will play cards and have drinks with friends. Afterward, you will be expected at the recording studio where you work. I implore of you to not get into the car on this evening. There will be a horrible car accident on the Interstate five miles from your home that will take your life. Please, I beg of you, stay home with Alice._

The note had not been signed.

After meeting Alice, the letter became ominous to him. The paper seemed to shimmer between his fingers every time he touched it.

Jasper had stayed home that night. He had taken his wife to bed and made sweet love and slept soundly with dreams of angels dancing in his mind.

The next morning, when the car crash pile up was announced on the news as he stood at the breakfast buffet, he collapsed to the floor and wept.

He realized how lucky he was to be able to still shed tears. His entire life meant more to him in an instant. Someone had cared enough to save his life and Jasper had thrown himself into various charity endeavors with the hope of saving someone else.

He was a grateful, peaceful man with the knowledge that there is a God in heaven, angels roam among us, true love is forever, and that we all have a responsibility not only to ourselves but to others around us.


End file.
